Breathing Tears
by ashhead
Summary: Tony finds a release in Michelle after Day 2


There's fear there as she stands before you, fatigue causing her to sway in a way that she probably isn't aware of. You want to reach out to her, steady her, but you know that if you touch her you won't be able to let go. Your fingers stay clenched in a ball at your sides, nervousness making them sweaty as your fingernails bite in an effort to control the urges that pass through you; stray curls that frame her face calling hypnotically to you. The pain you don't mind, without it you could lose your grip on reality, this moment blurring with so many you've seen in your head so often; it would be easy to get lost.

And you don't want to do that, she's beautiful, but she's scared, and you really don't want to hurt her. Looking at her now, you can see through her, you've always been good at reading people, but she's all there, not trying to hide anything. Fear, pain, exhaustion. She would die for you, she nearly went to prison for you, and you know that she would have done so willingly. You wonder how it is that you spent so long agonising over whether you could trust her, when standing here right now you can see that it's beyond her to be able to hurt you.

Words come out, tone all serious, no hint of nervousness, and you wonder how it is that you are even standing, let alone talking to her. She isn't that different from how she was then, eyes pale and tired, yet somehow all that can be seen. Her voice shakes, and you don't hear her words, instead you see the pleading in her eyes, barely concealing past pain, as she asks you out. You don't catch her words, aware that you're lost in memories, but you do catch her breath, uttered gently into the air, whispering against your cheek as you pull her closer, assuring her of things that you can't even remember. Moisture of her tears against your fingertips, slight shake that slides through her as she tries to pull herself together, unruly curls dancing about her face, wet with her tears, betraying the uncertainty she feels. You can't let her go.

But you can't touch her, frozen in a memory that barely even seems to exist any more. She was hurting, you were lost, neither of you knew what you were doing, it was just a moment. But she took your hand, she was willing to go to prison, and she would do anything for you. She is willing, but its your turn, you get that, but still your fingers rest at your side, a sweaty mess of pain that rolls up your arms to mingle with the numbing ache that keeps you from moving. An idle worry, have you drawn blood. Probably.

This cements it. Work and only work, that's all it can be. She's before you, swaying at the effort that just standing is drawing from her in her exhaustion, and you're drawing blood from your palms in an effort to force a decision out of yourself. You were right, you destroy things. She's not Nina, if she were, this decision would be easy, you would have no qualms about burying your pain in her, ridding yourself of everything. But Michelle, soft curls like dark silk running about your fingers, eyes full of trusting tears, you can't touch her, you would destroy her. And you don't want to hurt her, she's beautiful; and somehow, you find yourself thinking that you're in love with her, despite the fact that a week ago all you could think of was keeping yourself from the damage she could do.

Feathery touch on your arm, and you wonder if reality has slipped again, this moment resembling those created by memory and fantasy enough to confuse. Her voice breaks through, soft tones, nothing hidden, her soul pours from her and you fall just a little further. "It's ok. Just… time." Simple, she stumbles for words, but she's right.

You don't need this right now, neither of you do. You nod, the effort that takes staggering. Fingers brush your arms slightly, lingering unconsciously. She's gone, but it's ok. She's right, just…time.

You turn back, eyes finally able to leave her station without it feeling like a betrayal. As you turn to work, it finally sinks. You feel the tears start to come, burning with such heat at having been left for so long. You don't understand how it is that they're coming, but they are. And she's right, it just needs time. You hurt, but that will fade, it all will. And when it does, she will be there.

Hot, silent tears fall, but you can't help a small smile.


End file.
